Fathoms of Forgiveness (Sacred Breath, Book 2) (4 page)

“She’s sleeping in the hot springs,” Callder said, gesturing to the pool. He punched Trevain in the arm and grinned. “Hey, did you know we can breathe underwater? How cool is that? And all this time you had mom locked up because you thought she was crazy…”

“Callder, my boat exploded.”

“What?” Callder frowned. “How? Well, that’s no big deal, right? You have insurance.”

Trevain closed his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong big brother?” Callder hit him again playfully. “We’ll just get a new boat with a better name than the stupid
Fishin’ Magician
. You know what would be epic? Let’s call it
The Master Baiter
.”

A burst of laughter shot out of Visola’s throat. Aazuria bit her lip to conceal the giggle that was threatening to erupt; she knew that this was no time for laughter. Sionna’s eyes had widened. “Whoa. This is unbelievable; he has Viso’s sense of humor. It skipped a generation.”

Trevain opened his eyes. “Callder, the boat exploded with the
whole crew aboard
.”

“No.” Callder’s face darkened. He took a step back from his brother, and looked him squarely in the eyes. “No. No! You’d better not be saying what I think you’re saying. Were you on the boat when it happened? Is… is everyone okay?”

Trevain shook his head. His fists clenched and unclenched. “Only Brynne survived.”

“Thank God!” Callder said, throwing his head back in relief. He exhaled a huge gush of wind. Then he realized how callous his words sounded and he cleared his throat. “I mean… that’s horrible. It really is horrible, but I am just so, so glad Brynne is okay…”

“Leander. Arnav. Doughlas. Edwin. Ujarak. The Wade brothers.” Trevain slowly listed the names between breaths, gritting his teeth. “They’re all gone.”

Callder shook his head, swallowing. “I guess we’re way past decimation now, huh? I wonder if Arnav would say we’ve been obliterated or annihilated. Which one would be more correct?”

“Neither,” Visola said firmly. “You are alive, young man. You were pitted against a mighty enemy, and you survived.  You joined with us, your mother’s people, and what you are is
victorious
. We have succeeded in defending ourselves, despite suffering losses—the first wave of the Clan of Zalcan has fallen.”

Callder was carefully observing the woman who had spoken. Captivated by the gorgeous redhead, he cleared his throat and tried to put on his best charming smile. “Victorious, huh? Well, I can assure you of one thing, you beautiful sex goddess. Although I may have been harpooned like the wild animal that I am, every part of my body is still fully functioning. I’m just as virile as ever—and I can take you (and your lovely sister if she’s interested) to heights of pleasure you’ve never imagined! So if you’re looking to do a little celebratin’ of this great victory…”

Both of Visola’s eyebrows lifted in amusement. Aazuria placed a hand on her bandaged shoulder, looking around a bit awkwardly. Sionna screwed up her face and made a gagging noise.

“Callder…” Trevain said with a sigh, placing a palm against his forehead. “You’re not going to believe this, but that woman you’re shamelessly trying to get into bed with is actually our grandmother.”

“
What?
” Callder erupted in laughter. “Yeah, ‘cause I have a grandma who’s younger than I am with the juiciest pair of tits and tightest little ass…”

A small grey-haired and wrinkled woman had just shakily raised herself out of the hot spring in time to hear her son speak these words. She immediately wanted to sink back down and bury her face in the sand. “Ugh,” Alcyone said, cringing in horror. “Callder, that’s disgusting! That’s my mother you’re speaking to. Mama, please forgive him, he doesn’t know. Apologize this instant, Callder!”

“Are you kidding?” Callder saw that the expression on Alcyone’s wrinkled face was humorless. He looked from his mother to his brother in disbelief and confusion. “You’re both joking… how is it possible?”

“It’s okay, kid,” said Visola winking at Callder. She approached him and lightly slapped him on the bottom. “I’d rather be called ‘sex goddess’ than ‘grandma’ any day. I’m way more accustomed to it. I didn’t even know I was a grandmother until a few days ago, but I’ve known I was a sex goddess for a few centuries.”

“Mama!” Alcyone complained in a dismayed whine. “Stop flirting with my son!”

 “Sorry, Alcie. He started it.” Visola looked at Callder curiously before poking his cheek. “Hey, I like this one. He’s got spunk. A bit slouchy though…”

“What? I have no clue what the hell is going on here,” Callder admitted blankly, “but I do gather that I’ve done something wrong, which is a familiar and comforting feeling.”

“Straighten yourself!” Visola commanded in her General-voice. Callder found himself following her command without really intending to. Visola walked around Callder slowly, sizing him up. “I’m going to train both of you boys to be warriors in the Ramaris tradition. Callder will shadow Elandria’s personal guard once she is healed.”

“Warrior? Sounds like fun,” Callder said. “I know how to use a sword—mom signed me and Trevain up for fencing lessons when we were little.”

“Aw, really?” Visola asked her daughter. “That’s so smart of you, baby.” Although Alcyone looked like an elderly woman, Visola still spoke to her as though she was younger—which she was.

“He’s always had a passion for it,” Alcyone explained. “He is quite skilled and relaxed with a sword in his hand.”

“It’s because I’ve had so much practice,” Callder joked.

“Okay, Callder. You’re going to have to cool it with the masturbation jokes,” Trevain cautioned in a fatherly tone of voice. “You’re in the presence of a princess.”

Callder turned to the white haired woman who had remained rather quiet throughout the conversation. He studied her face, and thought that she looked vaguely familiar. “That’s right, those pretty nurses called you ‘Princess’ and begged you for mercy. Mom explained to me that this was a different type of place with an old-fashioned monarchy. I just want you to know how awesome I think it is that you’re powerful and stuff. People respect you.” He approached her, taking her hand and kissing it while bowing. “You’re also ravishingly lovely, Miss Princess of Adlivun—are you single?”

Aazuria smiled. “I am engaged to your brother.”

“
What?
” Callder exclaimed. “Oh, snap! Trevain is boinking a princess!”

“Boinking?” Alcyone shrieked, pointing a wrinkled finger at her son. “Callder! Show some respect.”

Sionna had brought a hand up to her neck in horror. “Good Sedna, preserve me. He speaks exactly like Visola. I may be forced to slice my own head off if I must listen to more blasphemous vocabulary.”

A deep blush had come to Aazuria’s cheeks, but she kept smiling. Trevain had been studying this exchange angrily—he did not like the way his brother held Aazuria’s hand a little too long. He also felt a pang of jealousy at the amused look on his fiancée’s face. She was normally so stern and impassive, but when it came to his brother’s antics she always became too lenient and forgiving.

“When did this happen?” Callder asked eagerly. “Jeez, how long was I unconscious? Tell me everything! How did you two meet?”

“I should thank
you
for that, Callder,” she responded warmly. “It was you who introduced me to Trevain. I am Aazuria Vellamo—do you not remember me?”

“No way,” he said, stumbling backwards. “The… the stripper? Undina? But… that’s impossible. You don’t look anything like her. She had black hair and dark eyes… but your face! Yes, your face is exactly the same. You’re Undina. You were a princess going incognito?”

“I chose the stage name Undina because it was my mother’s name,” Aazuria said softly. “She was the descendant of a Celtic warrior clan.”

“Wow.” Callder’s brow furrowed as he turned to his brother. “If this is true, Trevain, then you owe me big time for making you talk to her. Imagine that I hadn’t forced you to get off your lazy, antisocial ass and talk to the pretty girl? You would have been miserable and alone forever. Say it. Say that I’m your hero!”

When Trevain frowned and his lips parted to protest, Visola jumped in. “No way! It was all my idea,” she said with a grin. “I needed money for weapons and I chose to work in that bar. Who knew that a little strip club in Soldotna would reunite long lost relatives? Regardless, I should get the credit for this.”

“I give all my gratitude to Princess Aazuria,” Alcyone said softly, dipping into a solemn curtsy. “Zuri killed her own father to make Adlivun safe for us. She freed me from my white-walled prison and brought me back to my family and my best friend. While Callder was unconscious I had a chance to catch up with Corallyn, and it just reduced me to tears. I hadn’t spoken to her in sixty years, but it was like not a single day had passed. This is where I belong. This is where I need to be.”

“Corallyn?” Callder asked. “Aazuria’s little kid sister who wasn’t even a pre-teen? I’m so confused. Mom spent all of yesterday just explaining to me where we are and why I woke up underwater. It took her hours to convince me that I wasn’t dreaming or dead.  This is a lot of information to take in all at once.”

Trevain put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Vikings, Samurai, and Celts. I know it seems outrageous, but let’s just go with it.”

“My boys need to learn sign language so they can communicate with us in the water,” Alcyone said.

“We’ll assign them private tutors,” Sionna said. “They’ll be fine.”

Visola nodded. “I hate to have to leave my two favorite new grandsons,” she said, “but I have an important meeting at the palace. Are you coming, Aazuria?”  

“Of course. We have serious matters at hand, and thousands of bodies to dispose of.”

“…And he implied that in exchange for his help getting those guns off the black market, he wanted me to sleep with him,” Visola said, taking a long swig of the warm sake, “so I did.”

“No!” Queen Amabie gasped. “Earnestly, Visola?”

“Why would I lie to you? You’re my hero,” Visola said. She exhaled ecstatically. “I just can’t believe that in all the mayhem of battle you managed to remember to bring my drink!”

Aazuria had left the war council seven beverages ago. Once the conversation had gone from concerning the good of the nation to drunkenly catching up on the gossip of the last fifty years, she had excused herself to see to other affairs. She knew that her general had a special fondness for Queen Amabie, and she thought that the two women should have some alone time.

“What are allies for, good friend? Besides, you know I only brought my army to help defend your nation because I wanted a rematch. I need to prove that I
can
win against you in a drinking competition. You have wiped the floor with me in days of yore, but it shall not happen again, General.”

“My power is constant like the waves,” Visola boasted with a smirk.

Amabie frowned and leaned forward keenly. “Truly, Visola. How could you sell yourself like that? Is it not difficult for a weapons master to do such a thing? You are so connected to your body.”

“Why would be difficult for me?” Visola asked, with a halfhearted smile “Over the years I have come to see my body as little more than a weapon. An inadequate one at that! If I can sell the temporary access to one inadequate weapon and use the proceeds to purchase ownership of more effective weapons which will protect the lives of innocent people and their innocent bodies, then I think that’s a great deal.”

“Your logic is as flawless as your firearms are mighty.” Queen Amabie studied her friend’s face carefully. “This is about Vachlan, is it not? Everything you do has always been about him, Visola.”

Visola suddenly found the floor very fascinating. Her fingers played nervously with the unicorn trident attached to her hip. After several seconds of silence, she reached for her sake, and doused her throat with it. The warmth of the drink was comforting. It even inspired a creative response.

 “If what you mean by that is I went to extra, possibly unnecessary measures because I thought he might be the one attacking us, then you are correct. He might have sent a first wave led by that crazy woman, Atargatis, but he almost certainly knew she would fail. He was behind this all along—he sells his loyalties to the highest bidder, and now he is Zalcan’s little bitch. Shouldn’t even a mercenary have morals? That’s the textbook definition of a whore!”

“Calm down, Visola…”

“I do all I have ever done for Adlivun, for Aazuria, and my daughter. I would do anything to stop him! Anything; whatever it took to defeat him. I would do much worse than anything I have ever done. So, yes. It’s all about Vachlan”

“That is not what I mean, dear,” Amabie said kindly. “I am not speaking to the warrior in you. I am speaking to the woman.”

“Then you are speaking to no one at all.” Visola looked up at her friend with vacant eyes. “Not much of that remains.”

“I saw her yesterday,” Amabie said, reaching out to stroke her friend’s wild red hair. “You knew that we were supposed to have a formal, public execution for the leader of the enemy forces. It is hallowed tradition, the formal drowning in blood. Yet all Atargatis had to do was mention that she had slept with your husband, and you threw a knife into her eye. Do you not think that was a tiny bit impatient of you, Visola?”

Visola slowly nodded. “I’m sorry, Queen Amabie. I know. I know it was rash. I’m so sorry… I just lost it and I couldn’t control…”

“You were just being a woman.”

“I always am when I make my greatest mistakes!” Visola said fiercely. “I mustn’t allow it any longer.” Her eyes narrowed with focus as she declared, “I am a warrior, first and foremost. I cannot afford to make any more foolish decisions based on my heart.”

Amabie observed her for a moment before responding. “We may be the fortunate ones with the gift of dual breath,” she said gently, “but yet we are human. We cannot sacrifice all that we are by nature to fill the artificial roles society has created for us.”

“Oh, it’s not artificial,” Visola said, shaking her head. “I refuse to believe that. If my position at the head of Adlivun’s army were completely arbitrary; if my birth into a warrior family was merely coincidence; if my heritage and destiny were not somehow intricately linked… who would I be?”

“You would be Visola.”

“No! I would be nothing. I am only what I am, and nothing more! You—you were meant to be the Queen of the Ningyo. There is no one more suited to that role than you. It is in your blood and your spirit… just as Aazuria is meant to be our leader. We can all be only what we are.”

“Darling, you are burying yourself in your job and sacrificing your identity. The only reason that you are at odds with yourself as a woman is because you keep shutting that part of you down and pushing it away. It is not healthy. You are building up all this anxiety and tension…”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Queen Amabie!” Visola said with a carefree shrug and smile. “I’m perfectly fine…”

“You have not been fine since Vachlan left you.”

Visola’s shoulders slumped suddenly forward, as though the puppeteer who had been controlling her had dropped the strings. “Did you hear what Atargatis said? Vachlan thinks that I cheated on him. That’s why he left when I was pregnant with Alcie. He thought… but
why
would he think that? How
dare
he think that?”

“King Kyrosed Vellamo planted a lot of strange ideas into people’s heads,” Amabie answered. “He was a manipulative bastard. Do not blame yourself for this. It is not Vachlan’s fault either…”

“Two hundred years apart. Two hundred years he has been my sworn enemy. He has joined forces with the Clan of Zalcan, the worst brutes who breathe beneath! He has killed thousands, he has destroyed nations. He commands legions, and intends to throw them all against me… all because of a lie told by Kyrosed?”

“It is almost sweet in a way,” Queen Amabie said pensively.

“What?” Visola asked in confusion. “My husband wiped out a whole kingdom under the Bermuda Triangle. He tried to do the same thing to you in the Dragon’s Triangle. Now he’s coming here, to finish what he’s started. He’s been practicing a systematic methodology. Now he’s ready to ruin Adlivun too—he’s ready to crush me. How is that sweet?”

“It demonstrates how much he loves you. Your betrayal, although only a false idea, was so intolerable and unspeakable to him that it drove him to insanity.”

“Very sweet indeed,” Visola said, gripping her ceramic cup tightly as she ingested more sake.

“Truly, Visola. No man or woman dedicates their life to a vendetta of revenge upon the object of their affection
unless
that affection was once so great that it was the crimson burning sun of their whole existence.”

Visola paused for a moment. “That’s it? That’s the silver lining? That’s your positive spin on things? You think telling me you believe that he is raising hell because he
loves me
is going to make me look on the bright side and gain perspective?”

“Is it working?” Amabie asked, lifting a thin, arched brow.

“Damn you!” Visola said, furiously. “Of course it’s working! But only because you have gotten me exceptionally drunk.”

“I told you I would win one of our drinking contests someday,” Amabie said cheerfully.

“I am easy to defeat when I am overemotional,” Visola admitted. “That is why Vachlan has been two steps ahead of me this whole time. I am fairly certain he is going to kick my well-toned and rather shapely ass.”

“No! I do not appreciate the tone in your voice,” Amabie said sternly. “You almost sound like you feel you deserve his wrath. You sound like you are welcoming this!”

“Perhaps I am,” Visola grumbled softly. “I do deserve it. Remember my father? He always used to make these jokes about being psychic... having this great mystical intuition. When Vachlan and I travelled to Bimini to inform my father of our engagement, my father told us that he could not approve. He said he saw only heartache in the future for us. Our marriage would not last; he said I needed a man who would follow me, not one who would compete with me for control. Vachlan was too strong.”

“It is necessary for a man to be powerful in his own right, yet to always honor his wife’s decisions. My husband was like this.”

“Your husband was a marvelous man,” Visola said mournfully. “He was always right beside you, always helping and supporting you. He would never do the dishonorable things Vachlan did; he would never have left you when you were
pregnant
. When he vanished, I nearly lost my mind… Aazuria took care of me, and she probably saved my life. She told me that my baby would love me more than Vachlan ever had, and more than anyone ever could; because that was the way a child loved their mother. She was right. Having Alcie made everything better, and made everything worth it. I spent years searching her face for signs of Vachlan. I would see his ghost in her expressions when she was happiest. When she smiled so wide that her cheeks dimpled. Those proud high cheekbones of hers, and her angular jaw. It was like having a little part of him still with me, you know? My little Alcie… everything was fine until I lost her too.”

“You have found her once more, Visola. As mothers, we all must deal with the pain of separation from our children. Most men do not feel this connection to their young as strongly. Pain can either break you down, or give you great strength.”

“I’m not sure whether I experienced the former or latter.” Visola gave her friend a small smile before taking another drink of sake.

“You wonder this?” Amabie asked with a laugh. “Ask anyone whether you are strong, Visola. Ask anyone whether they know anyone stronger than you. Then you shall know.”

“Maybe. I really wish I were more like my sister,” Visola said. “When we were little, I used to lie in bed beside her for hours before we fell asleep. I would look at her, and think about how strange it was that she looked exactly like me. I would put my hands and feet beside hers and search for the slightest differences.” Visola stared off at the wall, lost in remembrance. “Most of all though, I would wonder if her thoughts were the same as mine. If her dreams were the same as mine. I had no way of knowing. Did we both have the same aches and pains at the same time, the same pleasures and joys?” Visola refilled their cups. “Now I know we don’t. Sionna has all the light inside of her, and I have the darkness. She has all the purity, and I have the dirt. She likes to talk about how we were once both the same cell. Well, when that cell cleaved itself in half, it may have resulted in identical chromosomes, but the soul… the very soul of that cell did not separate identically. She got all the good stuff. She’s a fucking paragon, and I am a… parasite.”

“No, dear friend. Sionna may be a paragon, but if so, you are a
paradigm
. You are the quintessence of everything a victorious general, friend, and mother should be…”

“Mother!” Visola barked. “I ruined my daughter’s life! Because of me she was in a mental institution for forty years…”

“And because of you she fell in love and gave birth to two strong sons. Both of whom are now in training to carry on your family’s great tradition! Everything happens for a reason, Visola. You cannot deny this. Every decision you make cannot be the right one, but as long as the positive repercussions balance with or outnumber the negative ones, you are making progress. Progress is all we can hope for, and it is what you are best at achieving.”